Parallels
by TastyCake
Summary: (Modern AU) "That is why those bonds become important. Because when you come to the end of the bridge you dared to traverse so long ago, you must look back, reflect, and decide: Was it worth it?" They live a normal life, and that's more than enough for most. Eren and Mikasa.
1. To You: Right Here, Right Now

The only other fic I've started has been on hold for almost a year now, and here I am with inspiration to write, yet no thoughts as how to actually progress my original story.

Instead, I've decided to do the opposite and start a _new_ story, little thought, minimal prep, and probably just as low on plot ideas as the first time. Still, Here I am.

Commitment right?

 **Note: I own no characters used in this story.**

Review and tell me what y'all think.

* * *

 _Titans don't exist. Humanity isn't on the brink of extinction._

 _Sometimes, the world is just…_

 _Normal._

 _But to most, normal is more than enough._

 _Sometimes, normality is an escape from fantasy._

 _ **Parallels**_

 _ **To You: Right Here, Right Now.**_

* * *

"Are we going home?"

"Yes."

…

"Okay."

…

"But we'll come back right?"

Nails scratch on a scalp. Deep breath. No, a sigh.

"Yes, we… we'll be back another time."

Dark circles. They're black. Black, dark circles. Under eyes. A man's eyes. The dark, black, circles are under a man's eyes, and his eyes are covered by glass.

Funny. He feels like glass. He's sure that everyone else does too. At least, on days like today.

Eye-glasses, windows, mirrors, impossibly intricate ornaments that feign the bravado of wealth.

Normally, these are the things made out of glass. Expensive. Fragile, but replaceable.

But today, right here and right now…

Love, the soul, the future, dreams, family, hope and determination. Today these things are made of glass too. Except these things are cheap. Hard to find, but that's what makes them valuable. They're not supposed to be replaceable.

So then, why? Why do these things now need replacing?

It's because they are broken. Lost. The remnants are tangible, but only as a solemn taunt, a reminder that these things can be placed together, but never whole.

He feels like glass, and he is scared that he too, will break. He is scared he will shatter. Leaving only dangerous shards for the boy who doesn't yet know that he as well, is made of glass.

But then again, the boy knows. He has to know. Isn't that why he's crying? He's crying silently, and the tears that fall trace the cracks in his soul. Preemptively, as if to mock him, the cracks in his soul are being traced, like it is eager to break. To shatter. Because on days like today, everything is made of glass.

"Eren."

The boy straightens his gaze, looking ahead.

"It's time to say goodbye."

And he does.

The boy walks to his left, only 3 paces. He puts a hand on a picture frame. He steels his mind, but his body is shaking. It's trembling hard, betraying him. Yet, he knows it only betrays him because it's how he really feels inside.

"I love you, Mom."

The words are forced, as if they should have never been spoken. His throat tightens like a noose on the last syllable, and he's forced to shudder.

It's suddenly hot. The sun has been shining so terribly bright all morning, and Eren hates it. He hates it because it is a sad day, and the world seems to think differently. Eren knows the world is wrong. He knows it desperately.

The heat cooks the picture he holds. Everything is burning to the touch. The boy is worried that the woman in the picture is too warm for today. The red scarf around her neck just isn't appropriate attire for such a hot day.

He knows this, because he's wearing that same scarf right then and there. Eren swelters underneath it's burdening warmth. He's wearing it tight around his neck because he needs it to keep his sadness down, keep it inside. She would hate to see him cry this hard.

The man behind the crying boy takes a step forward. He leans down and puts a resolute hand on his son's shoulder, and tells the picture that he loves her. And he'll miss her so, so much.

But he also thanks her. He thanks her for everything. For her laugh, for her love.

For their son.

As they stand, turn away, and begin to walk, a stray wind erupts past them both, vigorously shaking Eren's scarf in the wind.

But there hadn't been a single breeze all morning. This blistering, hot, sad, glass morning.

Still, they know who it was, and for one, sweet moment, they feel a pang of relief.

She was watching. She was listening. And she always would be. From here on out…

Just not in person.

* * *

 _ **Here Lies,**_

 _ **Carla Jaeger**_

 _ **A Mother, so Tender and Mild,**_

 _ **Safe at Home, with her Father she will be,**_

 _ **Oh, to see His Happy Face,**_

 _ **What a Sight to See.**_

* * *

Coming home wasn't the same.

Eren solemnly opened the door to the back seat of his Father's SUV. Eyes to the ground, hands tugging on his Mother's scarf, he trudged along. Where was he even headed? Home? Did that place even exist anymore? Maybe not, but nevertheless, the structure before him looked like his home, so forward he kept.

They stepped inside, light spilling through the windows and past the open curtains.

 _It's over now._ he thought to himself. He hoped it was over.

Suddenly, a phone rang.

Eren turned to see his father rummaging through his suit jacket, tie loosely knotted, the aftermath of a frustrated man who just wanted to properly breath after what felt like forever.

"Yes?" he answered in an exhale. A grating, hoarse voice echoed from his phone into the entire house. It was just that quiet.

"Grisha-" the voice is interrupted by a cough. "We've been working on the investigation. Come down when you can and I'll walk you through the details."

Grisha Jaeger, Eren's father, and now widower, let loose a desperate sigh. "We just got home. I need to see if... if Eren is..." he groans while running a hand through his swept-back hair. "Damn it." he paused. Grisha looks at his son, and sees a reflection of himself.

How could Eren possibly be okay? Grisha wasn't. How was anything going to be okay now? He's so frustrated. Frustrated at himself, at the heat, at the shitty suit that strangled his body in a vice. The same one that he promised _her_ he'd wear for the anniversary dinner that was 5 days too late.

"I'll call you." Abruptly, he hangs up the phone. Throws his jacket across the sofa, and walks over to Eren.

"Son, your Father has to go soon, I don't want to, and I'll be back before you know it… but… will you be okay for a while?" He stares into his son's irises, a perfect replica of the teal, jeweled gems he had adored. The ones he had buried 6 feet under ground that morning.

"Uh…" A beat. "Mhm. I'll be okay." The young boy sniffles as he takes off the scarf and hugs it tight. Grisha defeatedly bows his head and pats his son on his own. "Love you. I'll be back."

Jacket back on, glasses adjusted, and he's out the door. Eren watches him leave through the window. Scarf snugged up tight against his chest. He turns away, not sure what to do now.

Until he cries. Uncontrollably. Endlessly.

He sprints to the stairs, flies up two steps at a time, and slams his bedroom door. He weeps so arduously and so desperately. Thinking, if he cries hard enough, his Mom might come back. He screams and begs, but to who? It wasn't like anyone was listening. Just, _anything_ to make it stop. His chest hurts, and he feels like glass; how fragile, impossibly delicate he feels. He wants to make this world come to a stop, and eventually, it does.

He cries himself to sleep.

* * *

Grisha Jaeger hated the world today. All he wanted was a moment's reprieve with his son. He just wanted to go home, be there for him…

To be honest, he wanted Eren to be there for him as well. At least for today. There was no class, no study guide really, on how to be a truly 'good' parent. He just wanted his son to be… _happy._ It wasn't like he was completely useless as a father - it just seemed to cross his mind on occasion. He had already made so many mistakes as a young man, and he certainly didn't want Eren to have any of those regrets. There was so much he just wouldn't understand. Grisha Jaeger failed to be a father once, and here he was - failing again.

Traffic brought him back to reality. A sudden stop, red light. One more right turn, and he was there. He pulls the vehicle into a visitors parking spot and hurriedly climbs the stairs of an older, official looking building. Once at the front, a revolving door spun it's course. He slid into the allocated space, and impatiently looked around.

He prefers the hospital over police stations any day of the week. Grisha walks on through, the smell of coffee and leather invading his nostrils, as he takes off his jacket, removes his belt, and places them onto the conveyer belt and into a metal detector.

"Arms up," he's instructed.

Bleep. Bleep.

"Go ahead."

He advances ahead, gathers his things, and continues onward. A short walk later, and he arrives at an elevated, oak platform discolored by the fluorescent overhead lights.

"I'm here to see the Chief."

A dark red beard, on a man whose eyes could use a year of sleep hands him a clipboard. Signing in, he gives it back to the officer and heads toward one of offices on the first floor.

Eventually, the stale scent of the workplace is overcome by what can only be cigar stench. The Chief must have had a long day already. He knocks on the door while opening it, not waiting for permission, and takes a seat while a gentleman behind a large work desk finishes a phone call. He has the same worn voice in person as he did during their phone call.

"Mhm. Oh, yes. Guess that will do. Thanks Erwin."

Grisha watches him set the desk phone back into place. "Grisha," he starts, then hacks up a cough.

The man, an older, bald, and terribly wrinkled faced fellow, is the Chief of Shiganshina Police: Dot Pixis. He sports a thick, ash-grey mustache, and holds a lit cigar in his right hand like it's a fine glass of wine. He clears his throat.

"Thank you for stopping by, I apologize I couldn't make it to the service."

"Don't worry about it. There were many people in attendance. But, I appreciate you saying that."

The sound of acknowledgement comes out as a subtle 'Mmm,' before Pixis stands up and digs for a file. "Say Jaeger, what ever happened to that accent of yours, eh? Wasn't that little dialect what got Carla's attention at the hospital in the first place?"

"Stop. You ask me every time we meet these days. The answers always the same. Things fade over time."

"Maybe so, but it's no fun anymore, you know - can't impress the ladies with my young, foreign friend if he doesn't sound foreign, no?"

Grisha groans. Pixis just acts younger with every wrinkle he gets.

"I appreciate the banter, Dot, but wasn't there something you needed to show me? I'd much rather be with my boy right now."

Pixis stops rummaging through his stack of files on the desk, and shuts his eyes as he gets serious. Looks like Grisha wasn't going to let him try and lighten the mood.

He sits back down, and immediately opens a drawer to pull out a thick file with sticky-notes and scribbled papers clipped to the front of it.

Grisha half rolls his eyes, annoyed that his acquaintance was wasting time on purpose. He rests his head with his thumb under his chin and fingers holding his temple while leaning into the side of the chair. "Well?" It's a straight question.

Dot Pixis, Chief of Police, makes a bridge with his hands in front of his face. His facade is a stone face. The mood had suddenly changed dramatically. Grisha doesn't like the atmosphere at all.

His ears start ringing after sitting in silence for so long.

"There are things… that have come to light." Pixis's voice is like cold iron.

"Things. Like what?" Grisha, starts to raise his head off his hands. Slowly, unsure of what is about to be said.

A deep breath. "Your wife, Grisha."

His eyes widen. They discovered something. Something had slipped them up. It was supposed to be over with.

Wasn't it?

"We were wrong."

Wide eyes become strained. As Pixis continues to speak, Grisha's brow caves in to shade his visage. He looks down, and as they converse, the Sun continues to shine.

It shines blindingly so.

* * *

He doesn't attend school for the rest of the week. His Father got the time off from the hospital, but he always seemed to be busy. He was _supposed_ to be there with _him,_ not whatever was keeping him out of the house. While the weekend went by, Eren dreaded waking up every day. It just wasn't fair, he was by himself most of the day and didn't want to go outside anymore. It wasn't as if he had friends waiting on him anyhow…

Monday morning, he walked into the kitchen, made himself some cereal, and turned on the TV. Munching absently, he didn't even really watch. It was just white noise to fill in empty spaces. Eventually, his father came through the hall. Dressed in slacks, a button up… and medical coat?

 _Already?_

"Dad… can I," Eren started, but stopped as he made eye contact with his Father.

He didn't want him to leave again.

"Can I come with you to work today?.."

There. He said it. His father exhales with his mouth shut, air pushing against the back of his lips.

"I'm sorry Eren. Today, we both have to get back to work."

Eren was quick to protest. "But I _hate_ school, and I've never rode the bus before…"

"You have to," Grisha said with dejection. "I know that this will be hard, Eren. But please, we have to make it work. You'll have to take the bus from now on, and use the money I gave you to buy lunches at school."

Grisha hated this. But such was life. This first day back to the real world was going to be a long one. He continued on in a gentle voice.

"A lot of things have come up, so I'll have to work late for a while. I need you to be sure to keep safe when you get home. You remember my phone number in case anything happens, right?"

"Yeah, yeah… 555-0285," Eren replied in a sing song tone. "Just like you taught me right?"

His father smiled. "Yes sir, that's the one. Oh, and don't be scared of the bus Eren… you're almost in middle school now. You're almost done for the year and after this summer-"

"But I don't wanna do that either! I hear bad things about middle school, and Shinganshina Junior High is four years long!"

"Yes, Eren. But so is high school," he chided. "You have a long way to go so try and enjoy it while it lasts."

"Hmpf," was Eren's only retort.

Arms folded, he watched his Dad leave. "Damn," he muttered, then rose up from the dining table and stomped up the stairs, into his bathroom.

He's almost done with Elementary school. He's 10 years old, so he _has_ to be _almost_ done right?

Eren thought of all the things he didn't like about school. Most of it revolved around homework and boring teachers.

Brushing his teeth, he looks at his hair and groans. One hand on the toothbrush, and the other holding a comb, he tries to multi-task and do his hair like his Mom always did. He could still hear her. ' _If you want to have a girlfriend someday, you'll have to look nice, and smell clean! That's a promise.'_

She would always tickle his neck after she said it too. Every time. Eren looked back up at his reflection in the mirror.

'Don't cry, you baby.'

He gives up on his hair, it's a slightly uniform, but messy sweep of dark brown. He remembers his Mother saying, _"It must be made of chocolate!"_

Clothes on, clean as a whistle, Eren Jaeger runs out to where his Dad had showed him where the bus would be, but not before running back to the door and remembering to lock it the next time.

Before he knows it, he's out of breath. It's so hot outside.

He's wearing the scarf again.

Coming up to the street corner, it looks like he won't be alone while he waits.

There's a another kid, looks like a girl. Shorter than he, Eren corrects himself when he walks up beside the adolescent in question.

It's not a girl. He recognizes this person. They have long, shoulder length blonde hair. What was their name though? They acknowledge each other when Eren comes to a stop beside them, although the blonde child seems... nervous, perhaps?

Eren looks them over, catching his breath after running to make it on time. He's standing next to a boy. Blue eyes, seems pretty shy. He fumbling with his hands and looking away as soon as Eren shows up.

Well, that's fine anyway. Eren doesn't feel like talking to anyone regardless. He buries the lower half of his face into the red scarf.

But to his surprise, the blonde boy pipes up.

"Uhm… I-It's a little warm out to be wearing a scarf… don't you think?" Eren glances at him with half-lidded eyes. "And? What's it matter if I wear it?" He was already getting annoyed, _God_ he wanted to go home.

The blonde stammers. "W-Well, I don't know, um, it's just that getting too hot isn't good for you, right? What if you got sick?"

Eren seems to think it over. It _was_ really hot out today. Maybe this guy's right.

"Guess so. It is a little warm…" He decides to take it off, albeit reluctantly.

Holding it in his hand, he doesn't know if he can do this. This wasn't fair. It's like the world doesn't care at all. Doesn't everyone know what happened? Why is it so nice outside? How come he has to go to school? Doesn't anyone care? Don't people know what happened?

"Eren, right? E-Eren Jaeger?"

At the call of his name, he looks back up and away from his thoughts. This kid knows his name?

"Uh, yeah. Yeah, thats me. How do you know my name?"

The blonde child to his left darts his eyes around in figgity nervousness.

"Ah, well. We're uh, we're in the same class and all. I'm Armin. Armin Arlert."

Armin. Eren never noticed him before. Well, it's not like he pays much attention in class anyway. He doesn't think he could actually name all the kids in his class anyway. It wasn't like they were all friends or anything.

"Oh, well. _Armin_. Nice to meet you..." Eren went back to his scarf. Unwillingly, he took off his backpack and put the scarf in it. He could always bring it back out later.

With a sigh, he wondered if everyone else just _moves on_. He guessed it would have to happen sooner or later. It's not like anyone actually cared. Only his Dad cared about him now.

"And um, I'm sorry, Eren. I'm sorry about your Mom."

What?

Eren turned his head back over, and really looked at Armin for a moment. Did he say what he thought he said? Armin was practically sweating, and had a nervous frown on his face.

Did he mean that? He wasn't sure of what he should say.

"Well... thanks. I'm okay now." he lied.

"The class has been worried about you. Mrs. Berg told us what happened. Are you sure things are... alright?"

Well. This was unexpected. The class was… worried about him, huh? People cared after all?

"Um, I don't know right now. But thank you, Armin. Thanks."

"Sure thing."

There was a moment of awkward silence as the two young boys thought of what to say next. Maybe Eren was wrong about school. Perhaps, somewhere in his heart, things were going to be okay. It's not like everyone had lost someone close. What was he to think, that he was some special circumstance in the plethora of life's tragic shortcomings? It seemed as though he'll have to keep moving forward, but doesn't know how. It was like trying to walk when you no longer had legs. Every day will come and go, just not always with the same people. Armin spoke again.

"I didn't know you took the bus. I haven't seen you here before."

 _That's 'cause Mom would always take me._

"Yeah well, I do now."

Armin looked around again, thinking of how he could maybe phrase his next question. "Well, I take the bus everyday. We could, you know... ride together in the mornings and after school if you'd like. What do you say?"

Making eye contact again, Eren thought about it, but by the smallest of smiles adorning his face, he had seemingly already made up his mind. He could use a friend now.

"Yeah. I think that'd be cool. Thank you."

Definitely. He could definitely use a friend now.

"Oh-um, of course, Eren! Glad to have you back."

Back, huh? It probably looked that way to him, but Eren already knew better. This was no temporary departure, not a promise of returning to a point of origin, but there was no way of expressing this to Armin. Even if he wanted to, Eren lacked the ability to translate his gut feelings.

He would come to find that missing piece in himself exists to be filled by others, whether temporary or permanent. There would be no consolation in the acknowledgement of another's pain, just a hollow sense of camaraderie. Sewn together by mutual feelings of angst, of wanton sadness, but also, the hope that something new can be salvaged from the wreckage.

So for him, Eren Jaeger, that first step onto the unassuming yellow bus was all he needed to focus on. After that, he'd take things as they come. He'd trust the future version of himself when he needs to. After all, that's what life was supposed to be, right? That's how he was ever created.

And at the very least, that's how he got to enjoy the time he shared with his Mother in the first place.

Maybe, _just_ maybe, he could make the most of it. He'll trust _this_ version of himself too.

* * *

 _Sometime… In the distant future…_

 _ **To You: In The Distant Beginning**_

 _He wonders if there is such a thing as omnipotent as fate. He questions his reasoning, impossibly overconfident and curious for a such a naive boy. At once, he had lost that which was most precious to him. Yet, at the same time, stood at the threshold of what creates destiny itself:_

 _Bonds._

 _The act of love is not solely exclusive to fragile, temporary human existence. In time, we all come to a certain conclusion. To each their own, but to some, it is their entirety - their very existence that becomes marketable. We live for little purpose, as a purpose fabricated for purpose' sake is of no real value. In truth, that purpose is created for the benefit and sacrifice of others._

 _It is 'they' who we live for. It is 'us' who they live for. People live, all will perish, but some may never cross the river of demise. The value of their being has been placed on a pedestal so elevated, it sometimes elicits the devotion of other's entire existences. Through those bonds, lives are worth living. Through those bonds, lives are worth dying for._

 _When the naivete is long since buried under the crushing weight of reality, the boy will understand. The girl will understand. All who fervently announce their existence shall understand._

 _So when that day comes, it will be important to find the root of your decisions. It will be important, because it will be necessary for one's life to find meaning. In his case, it was on this day, unbeknownst to him, just as it is unbeknownst to all. No turbulent danger or imminent conflict of being, only a gesture was needed for him to understand. That is why those bonds become important. Because when you come to the end of the long bridge you dared to traverse so long ago, you must look back, reflect, and decide,_

 _Was it worth it?_

 _Would you do it all again?_

 _What is your answer?_

 _For him, on his day of decision... His answer:_

 _._

 _._

 _._

 _No._

* * *

 **AN: Alright, cool. So, after a lot of thought, I actually found a plot that might work. Like a lot of writers, I guess I'm just thinking of a story that** _ **I**_ **would personally like to read. Of course, there are benefits to reading as well as writing. I'm just spoiling the story for myself for the odd chance I surprise myself and write something** ** _I_** **wasn't even expecting... myself.**

 **So, if you'd like, tell me what you think. Appreciate the view regardless, so as always, thank you! - TC**


	2. Changes

_**Parallels**_

 _ **Chapter II**_

 _ **Changes**_

* * *

When she was little, her Mother made her a promise.

It was snowing. She remembers it so well because it was the first time she had ever seen it. A window left ajar, allowed crisp, winter morning air to flow freely into her bedroom. It was her favorite way to wake up. The tip of her nose would crinkle as it reddened. Her body would subconsciously flex the very tips of her toes as soon as they starting to chill. She would gasp upon waking, not in alarm but in surprise. It was as if each winter morning was as unexpected as the last. Morning-dusted eyes would flutter open, and then shutter closed once more.

Once. Twice.

She had her little morning rituals - she would tuck into a ball, grip her toes with her warm palms and lie still under her quilt. It was the best feeling, letting her extremities warm over time as if she were her own fireplace. The exchange of molecules fleeting to colder surfaces in search of equilibrium brought with it a marvelous feeling. She lived for the warmth under her covers each winter morning.

She loved the warmth. She loved the small moments to herself every morning, cut off from the cold of her bedroom without really having to move. Eventually, her Mother would open the door and hug her form on top of the bed, letting her know it was time to get up for the day.

On this day, she was excited. Mother had told her it was snowing, and it made her happy because she had heard all sorts of wonderful things about it. She heard how it gracefully descends to Earth, as if it were millions of tiny feathers - feathers so small you couldn't even feel when they landed on you.

She remembers how her Father said her skin was like the snow: so white and pure that you just had to stop and stare, like something so unnaturally beautiful couldn't possibly be so real.

Long, silky hair, so dark in pigment it was like gazing upon a starless night, framed her pale and porcelain face. Her cheeks were full, and red at the smallest tingle of cold air. Eyes gray by day, and black by night. They sparkle with endless constellations in the irises, each a nebula of its own.

She was such a jubilant child, evident in her light step which reflected an ever lighter soul - a soul brimming with curiosity and carefree attitude.

That morning, she went out with her Mother. Snuggled up in wool clothes and furry boots, they explored the outside with a palate of colors as fresh and new as the very snow beneath her. The stone path was glossed over, the once green carpet of nature frozen in place and held like a still frame.

The trees were bare, branches glistening in the morning light as the limbs stretched out, catching specks of falling snow. Quietly, calmly, she ventured out.

Slow and cautious paces quickly turned to skips and jumps, the young girl exploring and marveling to her heart's content. Behind, her Mother watches with love.

The outside smells of pine and patchouli herbs, the rural landscape paints a canvas beyond the patch the young girl scampers about, expanding endlessly with the rolling hills. Crisp, clean, country air. They live on an island disconnected from the mainland, the easternmost plot of farmable soil in the whole region. It has cold winters, and humid summers. Still…

It's their bit of _Paradis_.

Soon enough, the girl's mittens can no longer hold snow, for they become wet after prolonged contact with the substance following the young lady's exploration.

"Mikasa! Come look!"

She turns back, smiling wide and having so much fun. Small pockets of hot air become visible with each exhaled breath as she scurries back to her Mother. She has a soft and airy voice when she speaks.

"What! What is it, Mama?"

"Look, sweetie, do you see them?" Her mother is crouched behind a post of the wooden railing alongside the porch to their cottage. Mikasa follows her Mother's extended finger, searching for what she is pointing toward.

"Haah!" she silently exclaims, her eyes on two, beautifully white rabbits trotting along in the snow banks ahead. "Mama, they're so pretty!"

Her Mother giggles with her hand over her lips. "Oh, I know! They're almost as cute as you, missy," she remarks while tickling the back of Mikasa's neck, prompting a knee-jerk reaction as the young girl recoils with laughter.

"No fair, you aren't ticklish! You gotta sto-" but she can't finish. She's laughing too hard.

During the gentle scuffle, a flatbed truck rolls up into the snow-capped dirt driveway of the cottage. The driver's side door opens up and closes, revealing a man in corduroy pants, thick boots, and winter coat. He rounds the truck and jauntily walks to the porch where the two others cavort.

"And what are my two ladies doing up so early?" he announces.

They both turn, and upon doing so, smile and run off to greet him with cheery faces and familiarity.

"Papa!"

Mikasa greets him with a bear hug around his legs as her Mother gently kisses his cheek and puts both arms around his shoulders. "You're finally back! Guess I'll have to tell all those suitors at the door my husband decided to return… _and_ you're here so early in the morning, what happened at the proposal?" A teasing tone coats her voice.

Mikasa's father can't stop the smirk from growing on his face. He drags his next sentence with playful diction. "Well, Mrs. Ackerman... you'll be pleased to hear some pretty important news..." He signs off his response with a quick peck on her left forearm. A smile of her own appears.

"Ah, so it will, hmm? Well, why don't you let me know when you get into some fresh clothes? I'll get them together inside."

Mikasa watched as her Mother trailed back inside, the meandering snowfall displaced around her body as she graciously stepped through their front door. Large, calloused hands caress her back, right on her shoulder blades. Her Father must want her attention.

Oh she missed him. She always misses him whenever he ventures out into the big city. Truth be told, she just missed when he wasn't right by her side. It could be his trips to and from their quiet farm, or even his morning routine in the crop fields as he worked under the Sun. To her, the surprise drop-ins he would make in the middle of her lessons with Mother were the highlight of her day. It wasn't often that she got to play with him, but _oh_ did she cherish the time she could steal away from his work.

Now, she's scooped up in his strong arms, legs dangling before they're tucked under his grasp with his left arm and her head cradled with his right. Snow starts collecting on her horizontal frame.

"Oh, don't think I forgot about _you_ , my little snow angel," his breath is visible and the stubble on his chin tickles her neck when he leans into the crook of her chin and collarbone.

"Oof, you're _so_ heavy, are you sure you're my sweet little Mikasa?" The giggle that follows would silence singing birds, halting their melodies for a chance at capturing the beauty of her laughter.

"Papa, no! It's me, it's me!" she would declare.

"I don't know, you _look_ like her, but… do you… _run_ like her?"

He sets her down, and as soon as her boots crunch on the snow does she take off, little legs carrying her as fast as they can.

"Catch me, Daddy!"

So, he would give chase. She loved this game. It made her feel so exhilarated. Spurts of adrenaline propel her even faster as her Papa closed the gap, most often followed by a shriek of excitement. The air was so cold this morning, her breaths would fill her up with sharp oxygen and then seemingly crystalize her lungs with every step. Her nose was red as a cherry now.

Eventually, it was time for them to stop. Mr. Ackerman just didn't seem to have what it takes these days to catch her. "I'm going inside now, Mikasa! Come along!"

When she shut the door behind her, a piping hot cup of brown liquid was presented before her eyes.

"I made some hot chocolate, sweety. Come have some while Papa finishes changing."

Mikasa skipped to the table with her drink held carefully between her petite fingers. She swung her legs under the table top, too short to reach the floor below.

Absent mindedly, she scanned the decorations and knick knacks adorning her home. The farmland cottage they lived in was so cozy, your eyes would droop unconsciously, unceremoniously. So quaint, yet brimming with love. It felt so safe, as if nothing in the world could breach the walls or impede your rest. Mikasa's eyes seemed to think this way, half lidded with comfort as the piping hot chocolate warmed her throat and tummy. She lost her awareness thinking of her home, and after too long a sip without breathing, a hiccup forced it's way up her body. Unfortunately, her lips were still on rim of the cup, and so as she recovered from the bodily sensation, too much of the hot liquid recoiled forth and spilled down her throat without her wanting, slightly scalding her tongue in the process.

"Aahhh," she exhaled, putting the cup down and holding her burning lips with both hands.

"Careful now, Mikasa," warned her Father, coming around the corner that led to her parent's room. His former attire was replaced by freshly pressed clothes.

As Mikasa dealt with a personal problem, her Mother sat herself at the table and let her head rest upon the palm of her hand. She was looking expectantly at her husband.

A bit of a teaser, he pretended he didn't notice her glaring at him as his silence continued uninterrupted. She was too much sometimes.

"I'm not getting any younger over here, Matthew. Will you tell me about the meeting or is it your little secret?"

He figured he had enough fun.

"Actually, thing about it is… I have to tell both of you,"

Mikasa was plotting revenge against the inanimate cup when she perked up at the mention of 'both'.

"Both of us?" she double checked.

Taking a seat across from Mikasa and next to his wife, Matthew Ackerman continued, addressing everyone.

"That's right. I have some news." The grin he was wearing couldn't grow any larger. At the same time, Mrs. Ackerman just about had it with the pageantries.

"Oh really, now?" she asked with a tint of playful annoyance.

" _Yes_ , Mikari. You, me, Mikasa - I have some great news."

She sighs with coy exasperation.

"Well then, enlighten us why don't you?"

Mikasa's father takes his wife's hands into his own.

"...I did it."

Silence.

"Eh?"

"I did it!"

"What do you mean?"

The start of a fire was smoldering behind his eyes. Here we go.

"They loved it Mika! They want to sponsor my product and help me market it to all kinds of farmers! They want me to come head the production in Shiganshina! Finally, after all we've done, I got them to accept my pitch!" he was standing at this point, lifting his wife up off of her seat at the table and swaying her around by her hands.

"W-what?! No way... That's amazing, darling!"

She wrapped herself around him and squeezed him with excitement. "Oh, goodness! Congratulations!"

By this point, Mikasa was wondering what all the commotion was about.

 _What happened? Was there good news?_

"Papa, Papa, tell me what happened!" she declared.

"Well Mikasa, remember my invention you're Mother and I were coming up with?"

Oh, yes, of course! He talked about it all the time and it seemed really interesting!

"Whoa! You mean the people in town liked it! Did you show it to them?"

Her Father nods in assurance. He was glad that she seemed to notice how much this meant to him, and what this was going to mean for their family.

"Ah, look at you. That's right sweetie, _and_ they liked it _so_ much, they want Daddy to come work in the city where we'll be able to make it!"

"Huh?"

Well, it wasn't like he didn't expect this.

"Mhm. They need me there so that I can manage the production of the fertilizer."

"B-but… what about me and Mama, and our home?" Mikasa really liked it here. She adored the cozy farm house overlooking the rolling hills. She loved visiting the coast with her Mother when she had breaks from home-schooling.

"You don't have to worry, Mika. We'll all be going there together."

Oh.

So... they were moving? They all had to leave?

"But… oh," was her only response.

Mr. Ackerman knew his daughter took after him. Much like himself, she never liked the concept of change to begin with, let alone the prospect of letting everything go. Familiarity with this farm was all she had ever known, and it wasn't exactly as if he had known much of a different life himself. It was just time. Time to change, to grow and spread their wings as a family. Until now, that day had always been far away. It existed as an intangible dream, something to aspire to and work toward. They could only hold out on his meager income for so long. Eventually, they would have to find somewhere else to go. The sheer miracle that he finally had his product scheduled for the market was going to be their golden ticket out of a sustenance lifestyle. He supposed this kind of transition would be difficult for her at first, but… if she was going to be this-

"Honey."

He perks up, wife looking at him with soft features. He was spinning his thoughts around his head again. Although, she herself seems uncertain of how to press the subject of change with their daughter. He could always tell when she was thinking, just like she could with him. Eye's distant but neutral, lips parted and slightly pursed. Looks like she stopped his pondering to do some of her own. Cheeky.

But then, she looks down to Mikasa, caresses the back of her daughter's head with her hand.

"I know, sweetie. We're gonna have to go through some changes, but it's not like we're going away forever."

Mikasa's eyes meet with her Mother's. "We're not?" she asked curiously.

Mikari Ackerman can't help but fall apart when her little angel looks so innocent. Was she ever that cute when she was her daughter's age?

"W-Well, of course not, no. It's just, uh…" She looks at her husband for help.

But of course, he's just as stumped by their daughter's question as she was. At least, if his slack jaw ' _wait a sec_ , _what do I_ _do_ ' face has anything to say for him. Great. Should've figured.

She takes a breath.

"Mikasa, you know what you're Father's been working on right?"

"Huh? Yeah, it's the special soil that makes the crops grow up really good."

"Exactly. The fertilizer your Father has been working on is going to help both farmers and people too. If he can do well and sell a lot of it, he can make it to where anyone could farm, on _anywhere_ they have land. His invention will let people turn their trash into soil, and do much more than just let food grow quickly."

"Really? Like what?"

She figured Mikasa couldn't have known how serious the waste management issue had become.

"The waste left by people can be used again. The environment won't be polluted by leftover trash anymore. _Not_ to mention how healthy the food will be once Papa finds the best way to produce it." At this point, Mr. Ackerman decides to chime in.

"That's right, sweetie. After we find the best way to make it, then we can put all sorts of vitamins and healthy nutrients into the soil, and from there-"

"You can help people eat healthier!" Mikasa exclaimed.

"Yes! Imagine getting Vitamin C from... corn!"

"Like, the vitamin from orange juice?"

"Yep!"

"Orange juice flavor corn?"

"Yes! Wait- no, no, not like that,"

"Ewww"

"You said it yourself, honey."

"It was a slip-up, Mikari... don't worry Mikasa it wouldn't _taste_ like orange juice."

"Hmm. Okay Papa, if you say so."

A short round of laughter was shared between them. Truly, they had been graced with each other.

"But still," Mikasa started once the excitement dissipated, "We'll come back here again, right?"

Her parents looked at each other for signs of assurance. Then it was her Mother who spoke.

"Well, Mikasa. I'll make you a promise."

"Really?"

"Yes. Some year, some day, when your Father is done working and I'm nagging him until his hair falls out, when you're grown up and even more beautiful than you are right now, we'll come back. We'll come right back to this little house on this farm. We'll do everything we did together. We'll play out in the snow, and watch the sun set. We'll cozy up in blankets and watch the fireplace dance it's dance for us. We'll do everything. Maybe for just a visit, maybe until forever."

"Promise?"

She looked so hopeless. God. She was too innocent for this world.

"I promise, baby."

With that, she brought Mikasa toward her for a hug, and her husband soon followed suit. Wherever they went, whenever they did it, the little cottage near the coast would be there for them. That much, they always knew.

* * *

Two months went and passed. The move from their secluded farmland to the undiscovered suburbia was now underway. Even so, as the landscape faded into the distance and the scent of the air turned foreign, Mikasa seemed adamant about making the transition as grueling as possible.

It took a couple of hours, but her parents had finally settled her down enough to strap her into the backseat of the truck. Mikasa started out the back window until all traces of home were lost beyond the horizon. Turning back around, she contemplated all the changes they were making. Soon enough, she elected to ask most of the questions she had kept to herself in fear of acknowledging their move. Somewhere in her heart she thought they might not do it if it was never brought up. She guessed Mama and Papa didn't know her plan since they talked about it all the time.

"Papa, what's Shigan- Shingy- Shin-"

"Shinganshina."

"-Shiganshina like? Where is it?"

Her Father made eye contact with her through the rear view mirror, shifting his eyes occasionally from her and then back to the road ahead.

" _Well,_ uh… It's a lot warmer there. The summers are hot and it only sometimes snows. It's a big place with lots of houses and a big, old section of downtown devoted to manufacturing. It's the ideal place for making our product."

"So you're not gonna be a farmer anymore?"

"No, no. I suppose I'll have an office from now on. But don't worry, Mama will still be able to work at home and take care of you during the day."

At least that wouldn't change.

"So I'll still get lessons at home with Mama?"

"Yeah, we thought about it, and it wouldn't be fair to change your schooling on top of everything else going on. However, we think it might be good for you to _eventually_ start public school. Just maybe not now."

 _Public school? What the, what now?_

"Huh? What's that?"

"Oh, well we thought that it would be best if you started going to a regular school one day. One with other kids your age. That's called public school."

"Umm, I don't know if I would like that…"

"Exactly, we didn't want to force you into it straight away. You'll see. I bet you'll warm up to the idea eventually."

Mikasa responded with silence. Great. _More_ changes...

Why couldn't things just stay the same?

* * *

In the past, it may not have meant much to her, that specific day. But now, older, she reflects on it obsessively. Was that the day her future was decided? Was that the start of it all? Surely it couldn't have been. After all, it wasn't exactly _her_ choice to make. Yet, still. Here she was. Nothing really changed up until now, but… at the same time, _everything_ changed. It was peculiar. An oddity.

Why she felt this way, hell if she knew. She was just tired of all the shit that spoiled her life day in and day out. Wasn't there something _more_ to all this?

Just…

Gah.

 _What the fuck went wrong?_

* * *

.

.

.

"We're here, sweetie."

Huh? That's weird. She can feel her toes. Her nose doesn't itch.

 _Am I sitting up?_

Maybe, she left the window closed last night?

Maybe, winter decided it needed an early vacation? Wasn't it snowing before?

Maybe, _ah_. She's got it. _Fell asleep on the couch again_. Silly.

Wait… no, that wasn't it.

Hmm.

"Mikasa, come on, grab your bag."

 _Ohhh, go_ _ **away**_. Urgh. She was thinking.

What could it be…

"Mikasa!"

"Wha!-"

Her eyes fly open. Whoa.

Her _neck_ hurts. She sighs.

And for the love of _God_ could someone turn off the lights? Who does that?

"Mmm, what?" she unceremoniously creaks out.

From birth to death, Mikasa would be horrible company while waking up.

 _Someone_ thinks it's hilarious. They're laughing.

"Come on, girlie. We're here. You gotta help us unpack and move in."

Move in?

Oh. Right.

Maybe, they had finally arrived to their new home. In Shiganshina.

She yawns. " _Coming…"_

She wakes up, giving up the struggle of going back to sleep. It wasn't like she could sleep in the back of her Father's truck forever.

 _If only_ , she thought.

However, the time for being selfish was over. Whether she accepts it or not, this is her home for now. It wasn't that bad really, the neighborhood was nice, and she liked all of the trees that seemed to cast their shadow over all but the very middle of the street. It was actually... gorgeous.

"It's nice, isn't it Mikasa? This part of town likes to preserve a lot of greenery. They call it Woodland Park."

"I like this," she says, head tilted all the way up to look at the bottom of the treeline. Slits and gaps in the leaves let rays of sunlight shine down in shimmers. It gave the suburban street an Earthy feeling.

 _My favorite_.

Looking further, she sees how the streets are wider than the ones while on the road, and they curve and elevate with the slope of the ground. It was like they dropped the town on the landscape and hadn't bothered to adjust it.

"This is our new street?" she asks.

"Our new home," answers her Mother. "Now come on, sweetie, we have a lot of unpacking to do."

…

They found a good stopping point around dinner. Mikasa's room was upstairs, and she had never seen a second floor on any home before. She had a little balcony that was more for aesthetic than for practical use, but that didn't stop her from trying to use it.

After eating, she decided it was time to burn off some energy and explore the neighborhood. With a light jacket on, she runs outside with her Father watching her from their front porch.

Just as she was about to try and climb one of the trees outside her home, Mikasa saw an SUV roll up on the street and slow down in front of their lawn.

She thought it was going to stop, but instead it continued only a tad further until turning into the gravel driveway of the home to her right.

"Look, Mikasa! I guess we have neighbors after all."

Mikasa continued to watch the car. She hid halfway behind the tree she had so eagerly wanted to venture up into.

A door opened on the other side, and around came a man with longer length brown hair, pulled back into a ponytail. He wore glasses, business slacks and… a doctor's coat?

"Oh wow, neighborhood doctor has a ring of truth behind it here doesn't it?" her Father called out. Then the new stranger spoke.

"Well, I wouldn't call myself a doctor. I'm just wearing a costume, but don't tell my wife, or she'll get suspicious of where all the money comes from." He walks with a hand in his medical coat, and kind smile on his face.

Oh, well he seems rather nice.

Laughing at the notion, Mr. Ackerman meets the man in the middle of the lawn. "Haha, well that wouldn't be good, would it? Guess I'll have to keep it to myself. Nice to meet you, I'm Matthew Ackerman. My wife, Mikari, and my daughter just moved in today."

"Aha, I thought we'd be getting new neighbors once that realtor sign disappeared from your curb. I'm Grisha, Grisha Jaeger. Did the move go well?"

They shake hands in firm gesture. Guess Papa already made his first friend.

"Well, you know, it's _going_ well. At this point, I'll be thankful if we finish unpacking by the time we ever have to move somewhere else."

The man identified as Grisha Jaeger lightly chuckles, as the conversation continued, Mikasa's Mother steps outside to introduce herself as well. Mikasa can't help but notice how shy she's been.

Since when was she so nervous? The last time she introduced herself to new friends was-

Huh. That's right.

She never _has_ had to introduce herself.

She's just turned 9 years old, and she's never introduced herself. _She thinks._

But really. She didn't exactly have lots of friends in her vicinity at the excluded farm they called home, and that's all she'd known.

"-guess you could say that Dr. Jaeger, hahaha," Mrs. Ackerman finished.

Dr. Jaeger put a hand up and corrected her.

"Oh, please. Grisha is fine, really. I hope I never turn into one of those elitists that practically wear their degree as a necklace. No formalities required."

"How humble of you, Matthew could learn a thing or two from you then, hmm?"

Mr. Ackerman just shrugged. "Anyway, so Grisha, about this area - do you like it here?"

"Ah, well, my wife and I have been living here ever since we had Eren. I'd say it's rather quaint for a medium size city. That, and this community tends to keep its act together."

"Good to hear! Oh, you mentioned your wife before. What was her name? And you have a boy, huh?" Matthew nudged his wife. _Friendship incoming._

"Yes. The love of my life, Carla, is unfortunately away at the moment - son in tow. Carla works as a reporter for the city news, so when she's not at home she's out getting the _scoop_. My son thinks it's the coolest thing of all time. He treats it like they're investigators, and occasionally tags along with her. She's too good for us both, I promise." He shakes his head at the end of his synopsis, seemingly like he has to remind himself of such occurrences from time to time.

"And Eren, well… let's say he takes after me so far. He'll be 9 years old at the end of March."

The Ackerman's seem to empathize with him.

"Shy, huh?"

"You have no idea…" Grisha answers. "Oh?"

At this, Mikasa's parents look where Grisha is glancing. Mikasa is hiding behind a tree.

"Oh, yes. That's Mikasa. She's our little girl. Mikasa! Sweetie, come say hi!"

Hearing her name, Mikasa fuddles her steps coming out from behind her tree. Timidly, she approaches the new neighbor. "Um, h-hello sir."

Grisha squats down, and grabs a candy lollipop from inside his coat pocket.

"Hey there sweetheart! My, you're so pretty. I have a son named Eren who is your age, but I don't think he'll know how to say hi."

"Look at that Mikasa! Our new friend is Doctor Jaeger! He works at the hospital downtown."

She looks at the candy sucker inquisitively. After looking for her Mom's nod of approval, she takes the treat and holds with both hands.

"Thank you, Dr. Jaeger. I-If you'd like, I could be friends with Eren."

An _aww_ escapes from her Mother. Oh. _So_ precious.

Grisha chuckles, "Wow, that's very kind of you! I'll have to be sure Eren is as polite as you. Don't worry, you don't _have_ to do anything. I just thought I'd bring it up since you two might be going to school together one day."

Mikasa nods, and scurries behind her Father's leg to eat munch on her treat. He speaks up one last time.

"Well, well. I couldn't have asked for a nicer introduction, Grisha. Thank you so much for your time. Please, come over anytime you want. You and your family."

With that, they call it an evening.

Mikasa was skeptical at first, about everything. From the new town, the new house, the new people. It was a lot to take in over a short amount of time. But, time goes on, regardless of the changes we make to prevent it.

* * *

The first encounter with Dr. Jaeger was the only one Mikasa had with the Jaeger family for a long time. Grisha and Carla came over for dinner a few times but Eren was supposedly shy. At the same time, Mikasa was just too nervous to introduce herself. With her homeschooling and his schedule at public school, it seemed as so they would never meet. Before anyone knew it, an entire year had passed.

That is, until…

It was April. April of the following year.

Briefly, and only for a moment, did Mikasa seem to notice the change outside.

She hated change, and this stuck out like a sore thumb. What… was this?

The outside was verdant, it was jolly and warm.

 _But._

But this was not so, this day in April. Hardly a month before the children at public school would escape from bricked walls and cast-concrete, from wooden desks and pencil shavings, from all the things a normal elementary schooler would deem fit only inside a school, and this was not so. In their place, those items were to be replaced with summertime sunshine, with days at the pool, late nights with family. Hardly a month before this promised reprieve, and the atmosphere outside should have been charged with electrical preemption of such a time.

The feeling outside was none of these things. Instead, the world outside seemed frail.

Like it was...

Replaced with glass.

Glass.

On a day like today.

Huh.

Weird.

* * *

 **AN: I wanted to set things up a bit more for Eren and Mikasa. Next chapter is when the story will progress, so I apologize for taking so long to update just for more exposition. I'm gonna go ahead and throw out my '** _ **I have finals, so uh, updates are slow haha, amiright?'**_ **card** **pretty early into the game.**

 **Hopefully it won't bite my ass in the 4th quarter. Anyhow.**

 **Thanks for checking this story out, and thank you to those who reviewed my first chapter. That actually really makes me happy!**

 **Till next time - TC**


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